The talented orchestra from Sundays Cantata.
The crew arrives at 8:45, I have been out since 7 am shopping for the supplies needed to makes 250 PB&J sandwiches, with pretzels, cookies, and some candy.
I am teased about my inability to keep the spread inside the bread, and it is true, I am a sloppy jammer.
We drive on a cold rainy mid morning to that side of town that shows the wear and tear of being industrial, and post war. The gatekeeper, the same for the last several years, opens the gate looking like a relic from ZZ Top and has never looked directly at us or spoken to us. His silence holds pain, most probably.
Larry and i switch from delivery boys to consumers as we drive to the Business Costco for items for the church and personal as well. I snag two more cases of Alkaline water in my healing program.
We splurge in every way at a shiny new Oriental buffet, sampling small portions of lots of different things. I overdose on protein. We cannot help but notice the large number of very obese people, for whom we know this is like pure cocaine. It is sad, especially when the seeds of the disease rest in my heart.
A final stop at a huge golf emporium where we hit a few new clubs, convinced that they will help our game, but we leave empty handed.
I hit the gym at 4 for a long walk and stretching, coming back slowly from the miserable cold I suffered and the lost days of exercise. I see a beautiful women on the treadmill, and I desire her, and we speak about dinner plans and a coffee time together, she is my wife, the best part of my wonderful life.
A rainy Monday, in my wonderful life.